


This is Halloween

by Brytanie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Halloween, M/M, References to Alcohol Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:56:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brytanie/pseuds/Brytanie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire needs to find the perfect Halloween costume.  Courfeyrac is going to ninja his way into Combeferre's heart.  What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for tumblr user toosmallortootall as part of the les mis trick or treat fic/fanart exchange :)

_What’s your costume for Jehan’s halloween party?_ Grantaire texts Courfeyrac, gripping onto a pole as the bus jolts forward. It’s October 30th already and Grantaire is still without a costume. He isn’t entirely sure how that happened - his inner clock is still telling him it’s the beginning of October. _The weather seems to agree with me too_ , he thinks. _Barely even cold enough to warrant a jacket. But then again maybe I’m just a masochist._ Either way, Grantaire needs a costume before the next night or he won’t be allowed into Jehan’s apartment. That simply wouldn’t do - Grantaire would never give up on a chance to get drunk with his friends. Plus...  
  
 _It’s a secret_ , Courfeyrac’s reply comes. _Look to the shadows and you will see your death awaiting you.  
_  
Grantaire chuckles. _So you’re going as a ninja then_ , he replies. It’s a fairly good idea, though Grantaire will have to try and avoid his “sneak attacks”. As Grantaire gets off the bus and steps into the sunlight, a stiff breeze causes his shoulders to tense. _Maybe autumn is here after all_ , he thinks, frowning. _Maybe it was just my wishful thinking.  
_  
Grantaire’s phone vibrates in his pocket but he ignores it for now and steps into the Halloween shop, committed to spending as much time and money as it takes to get the perfect costume. _Or at least an adequate one_ , he thinks. _But I have to succeed. Even Enjolras will be proud of my commitment._

Two hours later, Grantaire leaves the Halloween shop empty handed.  
  
It wasn’t that he hadn’t found anything adequate. Any other year, he would have been in and out in fifteen minutes with a ketchup bottle costume.  
  
But this year, it’s different.

_This year I have to impress fucking Enjolras_ , Grantaire thinks grimly.  
  
He had made an honest effort to just be friends with him during the summer, he really had. He knew his crush was stupid and obsessive and never going to turn into anything real. _But Enjolras fucked that up,_ Grantaire thinks bitterly, checking the bus schedule posted at the stop. _Shit, not for half an hour. What is wrong with this town?  
_  
Grantaire’s eyes stray to the bar across the street, but he shakes his head. He made a promise to not go alone, to not go before 5pm, to only go twice a week, a million other rules that Joly and Bossuet and the others made him agree to. _It’s just because they care_ , a voice in his head says. _They shouldn’t_ , Grantaire thinks, _it’s way easier.  
_  
But there aren’t any rules about drinking at home, so Grantaire taps his feet and prays that the bus comes early. _Useless_ , he thinks, _why would Enjolras care what I wear to the party?_  
  
And yet, he’s already planning on calling in sick to work the next day, getting up early even, to start the search again. Grantaire tries to tell himself it’s to make Jehan happy and to surprise his friends.  
  
Maybe that’s part of it. But in the end, there’s really only one reason he isn’t going as a ketchup bottle.

 

“Two weeks until Halloween, Grantaire,” Bossuet says. “Have you decided?” He raises his eyebrows meaningfully, a big grin on his face. _  
_  
Grantaire stares at him, willing him to shut up. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” _  
_  
“Sure you do,” Bossuet says, bumping his shoulder. “You have to decide - are you going to go as cat poo or something like you usually do, or are you going to wow Enjolras? Prove your love? Win him over? So? What’s it going to be?” _  
_  
“Cat poo,” Joly mutters, sliding his food away from him. “That’s disgusting.” _  
_  
“First of all, I’ve never gone as cat shit,” Grantaire says, looking around for their waiter. _A drink with food isn’t breaking the rules, right?_ “Second of all, I have nothing to prove. It’s over, just let it go. I have.”  
  
Joly gives him a pouty look. “Don’t say that, Grantaire. Go as a giant heart, that way Enjolras will be sure to understand your meaning.”

Bossuet laughs. “Go as Cupid and shoot him with your arrow!” _  
_  
“How about I go as Basil Hallward and paint him a pretty picture,” Grantaire shoots back. Bossuet and Joly stare at him. “Really, you’ve never read The Picture of Dorian Gray? It doesn’t matter anyway, wasn’t a good allusion. As if Enjolras could ever do half the shit Dorian does...and I’m not moral enough to be Basil. He’s pretty enough though, and I’m obsessed enough, and he’ll probably kill me, so -” __  
  
“Grantaire,” Bossuet says, placing a kind hand on his clenched fist. “You’ll find a costume.”  
  
“It’s gonna be perfect,” Joly says, smiling. “Don’t worry.”

 

_Don’t worry..._ Grantaire gets himself out of bed on the morning of Halloween with those words. He grabs a coffee and pushes himself out of the door before he can stop and think about what he’s planning on doing. _Don’t worry...don’t worry._

 

Grantaire knocks on the door to Jehan’s apartment, shifting nervously. He’s a little late, even by his own standards, thanks to his fierce debate with himself about whether he should go at all. But he’s here now, and he’s nervous for many reasons - about what everyone will think, whether it will work out at all... _They’ll probably just laugh it off_ , he thinks, _another funny joke from Grantaire_ -

“Grantaire,” Jehan says dramatically as he opens the door. He’s dressed in some sort of...iPhone costume, except it looks like he decided to roll around in the mud for awhile. _Or in the depths of Hell,_ Grantaire thinks. __  
  
“Uh...”  
  
Jehan tilts his head. “What are you?”

“I’m...” Grantaire forgets his nerves for a moment. “What are _you_?” _  
_  
Jehan frowns. “I’m a metaphor, Grantaire, a metaphor. For society. It’s based off that poem I sent you last week, you remember, right?” He cocks his head then, and Grantaire smiles. _I do remember_. His costume’s meaning comes into focus. Grantaire opens his mouth to tell him so, to tell him-  
  
“But really, what are you?” Jehan says as he steps aside, motioning for Grantaire to come in.

“I’m...I’ll tell you in a second.” Grantaire looks around Jehan’s apartment. “Wow, Jehan...” The place is totally unfamiliar. Candles flicker throughout the whole apartment and dark cloth covers every piece of furniture. A long table takes up the centre of Jehan’s living room, filled with food. Along the edges of the ceiling, a string of lit up jack-o-lanterns give the room an eerie glow. A few convincing ghosts hang from the ceiling, one of which appears to have come through the window on a gust of wind. _  
_  
Grantaire smiles. “You really went all out.” __  
  
Jehan beams back. “I even made some more traditional food, you know, to represent the roots of this holiday. Although I did manage to hold myself back with the religious imagery -”  
  
“Sneak attack!” Grantaire flings his arms out in front of him, wildly trying to keep his balance, as a large mass attaches itself to his back. “Death from above!”

“Courfeyrac,” Jehan cries, “watch out for the candles!” _  
_  
 _God fucking damn it I forgot to watch out for him_. Their friends break out into laughter. “Really, Courfeyrac?” Grantaire says as Courfeyrac removes himself from Grantaire’s back.

“That’s what you get for guessing my costume, you bastard,” Courfeyrac replies, grinning wide and pulling him into a hug. _  
_  
“Did anyone _not_ guess?” Grantaire says, chuckling and reaching for a beer on the table. _  
_  
“Combeferre didn’t,” Courfeyrac replies. More quietly, he adds, “I’m pretty sure that was just to make me happy.” _  
_  
Grantaire sighs. “You two really need to -” _  
_  
“What are you?” Courfeyrac interrupts, holding Grantaire at arm’s length and looking him up and down. _  
_  
“I’m...” Grantaire looks around, seeing that his arrival garnered most of his friends’ attention. _Perfect, just what you wanted_ , he thinks. _Now spit the words out._ He makes eye contact with Enjolras, dressed entirely in red. Grantaire figures it represents the red of revolution or something to that effect. But it only serves to make Enjolras look ten times more attractive. _Shit_. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping it still looks tidy. _Is this enough? _  
__  
 _Is this enough to show you I care? _  
__  
“C’mon, Grantaire, what are you?” Bahorel says. “Cause all I’m seeing right now is you dressed as Combeferre. Which is hilarious, by the way.” _  
_  
Grantaire smiles and looks down. He has styled himself a little bit like Combeferre. “I’m a student,” he finally says, looking up at his friends. “Cause you know, I think I’m gonna go back to school.” _  
_  
The room erupts just then, and Grantaire grins. He receives numerous hugs and pats on the back as they congratulate him. _It’s not that big of a deal_ , he thinks. _Just a small gesture really_... _  
_  
And then Enjolras is front of him. _  
_  
Grantaire swallows and breathes in, tries not to panic. “So what do you think?” _  
_  
For one precious moment, Grantaire thinks he succeeded. Enjolras’ gaze softens and his lips flicker up into a smile. Not a forced one, but genuine. Grantaire reaches out for him. _Thank you_ , he thinks, _you understood - _  
__  
“Good costume, Grantaire.” _  
_  
Grantaire’s hand falls to his side. “Thanks.” _  
_  
As he walks away, Grantaire’s eyes follow him. _Not enough_ , he thinks, _never enough for you. And now it’s finally over._

 

Grantaire stands out on Jehan’s balcony, rolling an unopened beer can slowly between his hands. He thought he would have been drunk by now, but he’s only had three drinks. _Guess I’m a masochist after all,_ he thinks _, to want to be sober now of all times._

Sighing, Grantaire leans against the sliding door and stares out at the city. _I’m still gonna do it,_ he thinks. _But I have to avoid Enjolras. No more of this. It’ll kill me._ He tried his best and that’s all anyone can ask of him, including himself. It’s almost a relief, really, to finally know the answer to the question that is Grantaire and Enjolras, no more waiting, no more anxiety... _  
_  
 _Then why do I feel so much like crying? _  
__  
There’s a knock on the sliding door, and Grantaire turns to see Enjolras there, motioning for him to move out of the way. Grantaire leans forward so Enjolras can slide open the door. _  
_  
Enjolras doesn’t say anything as he steps out, and Grantaire lets the silence linger on. _I’m not going to break it_ , he thinks. _One step at a time. I can do this._

“I’m really happy for you, you know,” Enjolras says softly. “That you came to this decision.”  
  
Grantaire holds onto his silence, reluctant to let go.

“I had a lot of thoughts about what you would be,” Enjolras continues. “Courfeyrac seemed to think it would be something momentous, and I thought maybe...” Grantaire looks over at Enjolras and catches a sad smile sliding across his face. “Anyway, I’m happy for you.” _  
_  
Finally, Grantaire understands. Finally, he understands that Enjolras _doesn’t_ understand. He laughs. Enjolras looks confused. _Rightly so_. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Enjolras stares at him. “I don’t get what?” _  
_  
Grantaire leans back, stares at the sky, smiles broadly. _This really is going to kill me. Alright, I’ll give it one more shot. Just this once more_. “I thought a lot about what you said to me a few weeks ago, you know,” Grantaire finally says. “You told me I had to show you I care, that I’m not just mocking you. And it’s a valid concern, I guess, considering I don’t care about anything. But how you could ever doubt that someone like me would fall for someone like you? I mean it’s almost predestined, isn’t it?” _  
_  
Enjolras stares at him, eyes wide. _  
_  
 _You really don’t get it. _  
__  
“After all that time we spent together during the summer, _God_ I spent every moment trying to find the courage to tell you how I felt. And when I finally did...” Grantaire turns to lean against the rail. “It hurt, how you reacted. But I understood. I had to show you what everyone else could see plainly. You’re really blind sometimes, Enjolras.” He sighs. “But it’s part of your charm.” _  
_  
“Grantaire-” _  
_  
“No,” Grantaire interrupts. “Let me explain. Please.” _  
_  
“Then tell me,” Enjolras says quietly. “Tell me what I’m missing.” _  
_  
“I thought I would show you how much I cared tonight,” Grantaire says. “Cause I know words aren’t enough for you. You need action. So I thought, I’ll wear a costume that’s so perfect you’ll understand when you see me.” Grantaire smiles. “Stupid, right? But I’m stupid like that. Anyway, I asked everyone what they thought I should wear but no one really got it right. I convinced myself a million times to give it all up. How could I prove something if you couldn’t see it for yourself?” _  
_  
Enjolras frowns. “I’m -” _  
_  
“No,” Grantaire says. “Listen. Just listen. That’s what Courfeyrac, and his stupid mouth that he can’t keep shut, that’s what he was talking about. He thought I should wear nothing but the flag, the fucker.” Grantaire shakes his head. “I thought about doing something for you, something that you would like. Even ridiculous ideas, like dressing up as Robespierre.” _  
_  
Enjolras raises an eyebrow, and Grantaire chuckles. “I know, you don’t have to say anything. It would have been a joke.” Grantaire looks down at his costume. “I thought I should do something about me instead. I guess thinking back on it now, why would you understand? It’s not exactly obvious. But I just thought...you said to me once that your greatest hope is for me to follow my dreams. I don’t really know what my dreams are yet, but I wanted to show you that I listened to what you said. That I value your opinion. That I care.” Grantaire runs a hand through his hair. “I guess it was too many jumps of logic, to connect this to what you told me, then connect that to something else you told me, and then expect you to tie it all together and -” _  
_  
“I’m an idiot,” Enjolras blurts out. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay quiet any longer. I’m an idiot and I love you.” _  
_  
Grantaire stares. _  
_  
Enjolras stares back. _  
_  
 _He looks more shocked than I do_ , Grantaire thinks, feeling faint. _Did he really just say that?_ “I...uh.” _  
_  
Enjolras blushes slightly and covers his mouth with a hand. When he draws it away, he’s smiling. “What I meant to say is I understand now. Sorry it took me so long.” _  
_  
Grantaire stands still for a long moment. Then he steps forward and embraces Enjolras. “No worries,” Grantaire breathes into Enjolras’ neck. “You only nearly killed me.” _  
_  
Enjolras gently pushes Grantaire back and looks into his eyes. “Don’t go back to school if you’re only doing it for me.” _  
_  
“No, Enjolras, I swear I’m not. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile.” _  
_  
Enjolras smiles and runs his fingers through Grantaire’s hair. “Good. Also, please don’t dress like Combeferre again.” _  
_  
Grantaire feigns indignance. “What, Combeferre is the model student! It works perfectly for a student costume.” _  
_  
“Fine,” Enjolras says. “But it’s not you.” _  
_  
Grantaire huffs. “Haven’t you critiqued my costume choice enough already?” __  
  
Shaking his head, Enjolras closes his eyes. “Next time please choose something more obvious. I’m not Jehan. I don’t like to read too much into things.”  
  
Grantaire grins. “Speaking of Jehan, you know he told me to go as Peeta from The Hunger Games.”

“What’s a Peeta?” _  
_  
Grantaire laughs. _Exactly how I knew you would respond_. “Don’t worry about it.” Slowly, he raises his fingers to Enjolras’ lips and rests them there for a moment. “Enjolras...Can I?” __  
  
Enjolras nods slightly, his gaze dropping to Grantaire’s mouth.  
  
Grantaire leans in and lets his thoughts fall away.

“So I heard Enjolras and Grantaire finally kissed,” Combeferre says as Courfeyrac enters the kitchen. _  
_

“Yes!” Courfeyrac says, grinning from behind his ninja mask. “True love prevails!” _  
_  
Combeferre chuckles and hands Courfeyrac a beer from the fridge. _Reading my mind again, Combeferre?_ Courfeyrac thinks. _If only you could do that all the time, I wouldn’t be stuck pining after you_. “I was thinking of baking them a cake, but that seems too cliche. I need to be original.” Courfeyrac taps the side of his cheek. “We need to do something to commemorate the occasion though. For one thing, we don’t have to put up with Grantaire’s whining. For another, while this angsty drama was fun for awhile, it really did get too emotional towards the end.” __  
  
“You know, your friends’ lives aren’t soap operas,” Combeferre says with a smile.  
  
Courfeyrac snorts. “As if I watch soap operas. Where’s your sense of style?”

Combeferre shrugs and takes a sip from his glass of water. “I have plenty of style. For example, I know the perfect way to celebrate is to write a song to embarrass them with during karaoke night.” __  
  
Courfeyrac gasps and pulls off his ninja mask. “It’s perfect. I could kiss you.”  
  
“Speaking of which.” Combeferre sets down his glass and gives him a considering look. “Why haven’t you done that yet?”

What. _  
_

“What?” Courfeyrac searches Combeferre’s face for any sign that he’s just joking. Combeferre’s smiling, but he still looks serious. _Is this real?_ “I’m...I’m the Enjolras of this situation?!” _  
_  
Combeferre laughs. “Looks like it.” _  
_  
“So then...” Courfeyrac straightens up. _Get it together_ , he tells himself. _You’re supposed to be smoother than this_. “I could kiss you right now?” _  
_  
Combeferre, still smiling, walks over and places a hand on Courfeyrac’s cheek. “You’re adorable.” _  
_  
 _Only Combeferre could say that without sounding like he’s mocking me_ , Courfeyrac thinks. “Well then, I better get to it.” Courfeyrac leans in, still not believing what’s about to happen. But suddenly their lips are touching and Courfeyrac thinks he might cry. _This is amazing. _  
__  
Combeferre pulls back a little and smiles. “I really like you, Courfeyrac. I want us to be something. Not just casual.” _  
_  
Courfeyrac envelopes Combeferre in a hug. “Yes,” he says fiercely. “ _Yes_.” _  
_  
Just then, Enjolras and Grantaire walk into the kitchen, hand in hand. _  
_  
Grantaire grins. “So you too, then?” _  
_  
“Hell yeah,” Courfeyrac says, still holding onto Combeferre. _Well that settles it then_ , he thinks. _  
_  
 _Best Halloween ever._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed :3 to tumblr user toosmallortootall I tried to include all of your prompts. I hope you especially enjoyed, your prompts were a joy to work with. I had too much fun with this.
> 
> Anyway my tumblr url is willtheworldrememberyou if anyone wants to come say hi and chat!


End file.
